I Will Be Happy When This Is Over

 The laceration on my foot was healing nicely. The pain was almost gone, and I was feeling good when I hiked up my driveway to play in the shed. But first I wanted to address the voids in my garden. I planted some tall grasses last year and not all of them made it. I had a gap to fill. 

I really wanted to go buy some shrubs that would grow rather tall. But I was not going on a shopping spree. So, I dug a clump of day lilies up and split it into five good sized plants that I planted in the spots left after I removed the dead plants.

I am glad I did this first since the rest of my day went straight to hell. I moved everything to install the cutting table. The Man arrived with my table and we began the installation. As is usual when working with him, things did not go smoothly. For whatever reason, he has a problem accepting advice from me and pretends to not understand what I am talking about. This irritates me and makes me want to smack the back of his head. I don't, because I am an adult and it would be childish, no matter how satisfying it would be!

After I had been moving all that stuff around and modified the size of the table I wanted, we decided to use what was left of the 3/4" strand board we had left. We happened to have a piece that was 35" wide and 63" long. I wanted 3' X 5' and that was close enough. I already had the peel and stick countertop stuff ready to apply. But, before the decision was made, I asked it the table would sag in the middle, as I had not planned to put legs in the middle. I was assured that it would not, so of course it sagged.

I wanted to use the space under the table to store clear plastic bins of fabric and legs in the middle would need to be placed strategically to maximize storage. The Man left to go cut legs for the middle and I decided to start moving the bins under the table to know where to put my legs. I have moved all the stuff in the shed so many times, it has become a joke. I have tired of stacking stuff carefully and just want to be done and see the floor again.

I moved a bin that hit a stack of shelf boards. Not big ones, these are 2' X 2' that build those cube towers. They are very heavy and as the shelves were tumbling to the floor by force of gravity, I did not move my injured foot quickly enough and it hit just above the laceration. "Well," I said to myself, being the only one there, "that did not go well."

It hurt, but I was determined to get the bins in place so that The Man could have a visual of what was inside my mind. I managed to move three bins before I looked down to see that my sock and my shoe were soaked in blood. I was so frustrated I cried as I limped down the drive to change the bandage and see if I had opened the old wound.

The Man has been at my beck and call since. My foot is so tender now I can barely stand the weight of the bed sheet atop it. I am terrified that Toni Louise will pounce on it as she tends to gallop around like a blind horse. 

The very top of the old wound opened up and I pulled it back together with a steri-strip and iced it down. Tomorrow is my surgery and I will have to scrub my entire body down tonight and, in the morning, according to the directions given me by the anesthesia department. The steri-strips look nasty from the second incident and blood. I can't very well remove them, as that would pull the wound back open. 

I was thinking about having another go at those bins, since my hand will need to heal after the surgery. I was counting pills into pill takers and waiting for the hospital to call with my time to arrive and thinking of other things I need to do. Phone rang and I learned that I will be first on the surgical schedule and need to arrive at 6:45 am.

It is 90 minutes to the hospital under optimal circumstances. We allow 2 hours because the highway that goes through the mountain is being re-surfaced and delays are to be expected. I will be up at 4 to be ready and we will drive slowly because we are old and visually impaired. I will be in quite a state when I get there from trying to press on an imaginary brake in an effort to help The Man drive.

I do not know why I am apprehensive about this surgery. I still wonder about the need for general anesthesia. The entire episode with my hand has gone on for far too long and has caused me a lot of irritation and I will be glad when it is over!